Phish Food
by JagFan42
Summary: Harm and Mac talk and make some progress. Final Chapter!
1. Default Chapter

Title: Phish Food

Author: Barb

Rating : G

Spoilers: Teeny tiny reference to a future episode

Summary: A short but sweet story told from Mac's POV

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.

A/N: A big thank you to Ann for beta reading and fixing my mistakes, and most importantly, helping me with the ending. You're the best!

Thursday Night

Mac's Apartment

It's Thursday night and I'm sitting here leaning against the back of the couch, alone and drowning myself in ice cream and a tearjerker movie - three hankies, no less. I brush my hair from my face and shove the spoon into the half-eaten pint. I have to _stop_ this, I admonish myself for the hundredth time. Time to move on. With a snort of disgust I stab at the button on the remote to turn off the TV and throw it on the sofa – so there, I showed _it_! What I really need right now is a friend, someone to talk to, but last time I looked I didn't have any, still don't....none that are close anyway. Can't count Dr. McCool – hah, if you start counting your shrink as your friend then you're in pretty sad shape. Harriet's too busy, can't talk to her, I think as I pick imaginary lint off my pajamas.

I sit and think again about the doctor; she hit a little too close to home when she asked why I always choose to be alone. She should understand, knowing that I grew up in an alcoholic environment. Anyone I ever knew who had an alcoholic parent knew the truth, it's like being in a club you don't want to belong to – that as much as you want to, you just can't let yourself bring someone home just in case _he_ was home; you didn't want anyone to see that you didn't live in a Father Knows Best TV fantasyland. That you ran home from school to help Mom with dinner so you could try to make it perfect so when Dad got home he wouldn't start yelling that you can't do it right, that you're worthless; that you lie in bed at night and pray that Dad will just pass out instead of slapping Mom and making her cry. Old patterns. I'm in my 30s and still I let people in only to push them away....because, why? I'm not good enough? I'm not worthy? I know in my heart that's not true, but the old tapes are still there, playing over and over.

I sit and hug my legs to my chest, resting my cheek on my knee. And as I sit here and ponder the mess that is my life, I think I _am_ worthy, I _am_ a good person. I'm intelligent, successful; I've got a lot to offer someone. And suddenly one bright thought shines through - someone who's seen me at my best, my worst, someone who's always been there for me. Harm.

I grab a pillow and hug it to my chest, and think about my one true friend. Friend. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to be after this last, screwed up year. And even though the odds are long for the chance of us going halves on a kid, for some reason he's still here. I feel a little hope. And suddenly the thought of sitting here alone feeling sorry for myself makes me want.....to call him. He said when I'm ready to talk, let him know. So now's just as good a time as any, so what if it's...it's...it's late. I shouldn't, I mean, he'll probably be sleeping.

Inexplicably my hand reaches for the phone and flips it open. There's a war going on inside me, but I figure if I back out now, I may never do it. So....I....close the phone. This is stupid. Okay, I open it again. It's easy, just hit number three on speed dial.....there. It's ringing. Ringing. This is stupid. Ringing.

"Rabb." He sounds tired. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

"Hello." Oh God, he's getting annoyed, probably thinks I'm some kind of heavy breather.

Just before he clicks off, I get up the nerve. "Um, Harm? It's Mac."

"Mac? What's going on, is everything okay?" he sounds concerned.

"Uh, yeah, everything's fine." Clever answer, MacKenzie, you're full of witticisms.

"Mac, it's 2345. What's going on?"

"It's 2342 actually," I inform him.

"Funny. What's up?" I knew this wasn't a good idea.

"Nothing, it's stupid. I...I'm sorry if I woke you up. Go back to sleep, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Well I'm wide awake now, Mac. So what is it that couldn't wait?" My mind is conjuring all kinds of thoughts right now, he's probably rolling his eyes, can't wait to get off the phone.

"Nothing, Harm." My voice is practically a whisper.

"If you don't tell me, Mac, I'm coming over there right now," he threatened.

"Okay, sheesh. Call someone to talk and they bite your head off."

"You called to talk?" he asked in surprise.

"Is that so hard to believe?" I ask facetiously. "Wait, don't answer that." We both laugh.

"So what, did you have an epiphany, or is this just a general sort of talk you had in mind?" he asked.

"I don't know, I was just sitting here watching a movie and eating Phish Food and I thought of you."

"Fish food?" he asked incredulously.

"Not that kind of fish food silly! You know, Ben & Jerry's Phish Food, chocolate ice cream with lots of gooey marshmallow, caramel and fudge fish. It's my favorite."

"Yeah, sounds appetizing. So...you really just called to talk?"

"Yeah. For some reason, I just wanted to hear your voice. I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind. What did you want to talk about?" he asked.

"I don't know, nothing heavy, just....stuff."

"Stuff."

"Yeah, you know, best friend stuff. You. Me. Mattie. What you like, what you don't like. Stuff. I miss talking to you."

"I miss you too, Mac. So you start. What's on your mind?"

"Patty melts." I say as my mouth starts to water. I figure we should start off slowly and work our way up to the heavy stuff.

"Somehow I think if I just kept you fed, you'd be a very happy person," he chuckled.

"I told you I didn't need much, Harm," I respond with a smile.

"You're right, Mac. You did."

My heart does a little flip as I hear Harm's chuckle come over the wire. I think we might just make it.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

Friday

November 5, 2004

Key West, FL

When Harm and I leave Dulles this morning for an investigation to NAS Key West, it's pouring, gray and dreary, and I have a mood to match, but only because it's zero dark early and I haven't had any breakfast, and I'm not likely to since we didn't have time to stop for food before the flight. Harm and I don't speak much on the plane. He busies himself with some case files and munches on a granola bar, and he offers me one but there's no way one of those things is going to touch my lips. I need bacon; I need sausage; I need eggs! My mouth waters as I think of a double-meat, egg and cheese Croissanwich from Burger King.

I try to get my mind off the lack of food and spend most of the flight nursing a terrible cup of coffee and stealing little glances at Harm while he's working. I close my eyes and think back to that day...it was a Thursday, the night we first talked about "stuff." Simple concept really, but one we had never really contemplated in all our years of friendship, now that I think about it. Harm and I, for all the talking we did, never really communicated before. Oh we've talked all right, but we're both lawyers, it's what we do, we're masters of word play and mind games. But that wasn't working too well for us; it was obviously time for something different.

That night...._that_ Thursday night, we broke the pattern. We just talked...about ice cream and patty melts and guitars and music and...fluffy pillows. I smile at the thought. We talked for an hour about nothing and everything, just stuff. There is an unspoken agreement between us – no talk about _us_ and _them _and work, unless we're working on a case together. Everything else is fair game. That way we have no excuses.

That night we hung up the phone and I settled into the best sleep I ever had. I've had trouble sleeping all my adult life and now, I actually look forward to going to sleep. There are no more nightmares, no more angry faces and hateful words. And my dreams! Who knew a dream could be so good you wouldn't want to wake up from it, except to try to make it come true. We talk every night, sometimes for just a few minutes, sometimes for hours. But we both feel the need to connect, and it feels so good. I'm a much happier person as a result. Things still get me down and I still have problems, still see Dr. McCool, but I have a much more positive attitude. And a lot of that has to do with Harm. With _stuff_.

Ah, speaking of peaceful dreams, we step off the plane and like magic we're thrust into what I can only describe as paradise. I take a deep breath as I deplane and take in my surroundings. The sun is shining, it's 84 degrees in November, people are smiling....remind me again why I live in Washington? I had wondered why Harm and I were traveling on a Friday, but it ceased to matter once I got my first view of the clear water and white sandy beach.

We grab a rental car and make our way to the hotel...well, a bed and breakfast actually, and I stare, wide-eyed as we're led to our adjoining rooms. We let ourselves in with our respective card keys.

"HARM!"

Harm comes barreling into my room like a house on fire. "What, Mac?" he asks as he surveys the area, and satisfied that he finds no menacing intruder, he lets out a breath, "Where is it? I'll kill it for you," he offers.

"Kill what?" I ask in confusion.

"The bug, Mac. Where is it? I can't believe you need me to do it for you, but I will. Where is it?"

I giggle at him. How cute is he, offering to kill a bug for me? "There is no bug, Harm. I was just...I can't believe how gorgeous this room is! You have to admit these aren't standard Navy fare..." I eye him suspiciously, "Speaking of which, who'd you have to kill for this?"

Harm blinks and shakes his head, hands on his hips. "Okay, let me get this straight. You scream bloody murder and scare me half to death because you love your room?"

"I think you're overreacting, Harm. I was just being...enthusiastic." I reasoned.

He smirks at me. "I'm glad you like it." I give him the eye and he shrugs his shoulders, "So what, I wanted something decent for a change. Besides, a lot of hotel rooms are booked because of the air show this weekend."

The light bulb in my head goes on and I give him a knowing look, waving a finger at him. "Hmmm, don't tell me. Blue Angels, right? No wonder you volunteered us for this assignment."

"I did not," he shot back, eyebrows furrowed in indignation. "It's just a coincidence," he added.

"Uh huh." I plop down onto the bed and run my fingers down the over-the-bed canopy net. "It's too nice here. Wood floors, the tub is _huge_!" I sigh with contentment and prop my head on my hand. "Do we have to work? Can't we just say we got lost or something?" I ask hopefully.

"Believe me, there's nothing I'd like better. But we could take our time, you know, have trouble locating a witness or two," he suggests.

"Sounds like a plan," I agree with a conspiratorial smile.

Gathering his thoughts, Harm walks to the door and turns to leave. "Well, let's take a few minutes to freshen up. We still have to get over to the base and check in, maybe get a couple of interviews under our belts. I told Captain Bernard we would meet him for dinner later. He suggested a nice seafood restaurant nearby."

Ten minutes later we were back on the road. It didn't take us long to get to NAS, where we spent a good part of the day meeting people and interviewing others. Some of the meetings would have to wait until Monday, but I wasn't going to argue. Harm and I headed back to the hotel with only an hour to spare before our dinner with the Captain. There's no way I was planning on wearing my uniform to dinner, but I hadn't thought to pack one, so I left Harm in his room and ran to one of the local shops in search of a dress. Luckily I got one of the saleswomen to help me find something that was simple and elegant, but not too dressy. She knew exactly what I needed and for that I was grateful. She also sent me a few doors down for a nice pair of dressy sandals to go with it...you can never have too many pairs of shoes.

I knock on Harm's door and take the time to turn around to get a better look at the beautiful landscape while I'm waiting. I'm so mesmerized I don't hear the door open and when I turn back around I see Harm standing in the doorway, watching me. He's looking at me with an expression I haven't seen much. I'm not quite sure what to make of it. Suddenly I feel a little self-conscious.

I twist to check both sides of my dress. "What, did I forget to cut a tag off?" I ask.

"Uh, no Mac, you look...fine. New dress?"

I decide to let him in on my little secret. "Yeah, don't tell the Captain, but I'm wearing it off the rack...literally. You don't think it's too much, do you? The saleswoman said this would be perfect."

"Yeah, it's perfect, I mean, you look great," he says as he takes the opportunity to nonchalantly observe me from head to toe. He's already seen me from behind. "Nice shoes."

"Thanks, they're not exactly what I would have picked out, but now that I have them on, well..." Why I'm even talking to Harm about my shoes I have no idea, other than the fact that I'm nervous, and he looks...but then he always looks...one day I'm going to find the perfect word to describe it, but for now I decide to just take the time and enjoy the view.

There's something about the way he's looking at me that gives me a sudden thrill of excitement.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Are we walking?" I ask. His eyes are holding me captive.

"We might as well; it's just down the street," he answers as he leads me onto the porch and closes the door behind us. He takes my hand in the crook of his arm, and we walk to the restaurant, making small talk. My three-inch heels give me an advantage, and I've closed the gap in height by a small margin. At this height, I can smell the cologne he has on, and I find myself leaning closer just to get a better whiff. I hope he thinks I'm leaning in to hear him better over the street noise and doesn't notice that I'm drowning in his scent.

Dinner was nice. Captain Bernard brought his wife along so we wouldn't have to spend the whole time talking about the case. We talked about the history of the base and tourism, and kids (they have three of varying ages) and politics and deployments. And of course, flying. I was pleasantly satisfied with the evening: the meal was great, and of course the company wasn't half bad. We leave after several hours and say our goodbyes, and take a leisurely walk back to the hotel, not talking but content to take in the atmosphere of people milling about and listening to the ocean lapping on the shore, enjoying the light breeze.

Finally we made it back to our rooms, and Harm and I look at each other. We just stand there, not moving, not talking. Then Harm breaks the silence. "That was a nice time, wasn't it?" he asks.

"Yeah, I wasn't really expecting to enjoy it so much, but it was nice to get out and meet new people. I don't get to do that often."

"I worried about you when they started talking about their kids. Are you okay?"

"I can't get upset and cry every time I see someone with a child, Harm. I'm still hurting, but I'll be okay." I take let out a deep breath and smile up at him. "You know what they say, 'fake it 'til you make it.'"

"We should do this again. I mean, maybe you and I should go out more often, you know, if you wanted to, that is."

His shy attempt at asking me out surprises me. Or maybe he really isn't asking me out, I think to myself....and I hesitate, running the words over again in my mind to make sure that's really what it is. But I can see my hesitancy disappoints him. I can almost see him shut down before my eyes.

"We don't have to Mac, it was just an idea. I'll let you go, it's getting late."

I put my hand on his arm and my eyes search his. I have to ask, just so there are no more misunderstandings between us. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Harm looks at me, smiling, then looks down at his shoes and back up at me. "Yeah, I am. Would you go out with me, Mac?"

"I'd like that." I lift up on my toes and kiss him on the cheek. Our lips are so close and they're so inviting, and his scent is invading my senses. I linger a little longer than I should and slowly pull away.

Harm straightens and reverts back to his confident self. "I'll see you in the morning for breakfast. How about 0700? I got us special passes for the air show but we have to get there early."

"0700 it is. Night, Harm." I leave him standing at my door and hear him walk away when I click the bolt on the door. I stand with my back to the door, leaning up against it for support. I smile, then giggle, then take a big breath and let it out. HARM ASKED ME OUT! Oh, I don't know what to do; I don't know what to feel. I'm scared, I'm so excited; my heart is pounding. I replay the words over and over in my head. I don't know how I'm going to be able to sleep tonight, and I think maybe a nice hot bath will settle me down.

I walk into the bathroom and turn on the faucet, drizzling a little bit of complimentary bubble bath into the water and go back to the bedroom to get myself out of my dress. There's only one problem...the zipper is stuck. I try several times, contorting my arms in several different ways to try and get the right kind of grip on the zipper, to no avail. Great, now what do I do? Sitting on the bed, I ponder my options. I can't squeeze out of it, so that's out of the question. I try lying on my stomach and stretch my arms behind my back...that doesn't work. I come to the conclusion there's only one thing I can do. Call Harm. Wait until I try to explain _this_.

I call Harm's cell phone and he answers on the second ring. "Rabb."

"You're not going to believe this," I start.

He chuckles and says, "You miss me already?"

"Oh, terribly," I coo into the phone. "Seriously, Harm, I need you to help me with something."

"Sure, what is it, Mac?" he asks.

"Can you come over? I need you to undo me."

Silence.

"Harm?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he said distractedly.

"Just come over, okay?"

More silence. But the next thing I know there is a knock on the door. I open it up to see Harm standing with the phone still to his ear and a deer-like look on his face.

I grab his arm and drag him inside, closing the door behind him. "Don't panic, Harm. I just need you to unzip me."

"Why?"

"Uh, because I can't do it myself?"

That seems to make sense to him. "Okay."

I turn around and bare my back to him and pull my hair aside so he can get a full view. "Can you see anything stuck in there? The thing won't budge. I've tried everything short of ripping it off me, but it cost me an arm and a leg so I'd rather not go there."

Examining my back from a distance, he asks, "How did you get it zipped up?"

"They did it at the store, remember? I wore it out. They didn't have any problem zipping it up." I explained.

"I don't see anything but it's too dark here. Why don't we move to an area where there's better light?" he suggested.

I quickly run to the bathroom and turn off the faucet. This could take a while and I don't want the tub to overflow. When I came back, Harm had turned on the bedside lamp and is sitting on the edge of the bed. He motions for me to turn around and grabs me by the waist, pulling me in for a closer look. But that isn't helping, and unconsciously he sets me on his lap and bends me forward, following right behind so he can shed maximum light on the zipper.

And then I realize I'm sitting on Harm's lap, I'm bent over, and he's got his hands slowly moving over my back. Suddenly it's getting a little warm in here. Harm runs his fingers gently on both sides of the zipper the length of my back, looking for imperfections or a tooth that is out of alignment. Then he reaches up and runs his fingers under the edge of my dress, pulling it forward so he can get a better look.

"I don't see anything, Mac. Maybe there's a piece of fiber caught on the inside that I can't see. Here. Let me try this one more time." He slowly nudges the zipper and it doesn't budge, but he yanks it, and it catches for a split second, but then quickly, before we know what's happening, I'm unzipped down to my waist, and he gasps when he realizes I don't have anything on underneath, and that my breasts are partially exposed. Suddenly the heat kicks up another notch.

I can tell Harm is embarrassed and all he wants to do is jump up and escape, but there is the little problem of me bent over, sitting on his lap, straddling his legs – not a position to be extricated from easily. I know what I'm thinking; I can only imagine what he's thinking.

Trying to make light of the awkward situation, Harm says, "Wow, if I'd known it would be this easy to get you out of a dress I'd have done it sooner."

"Wasn't it Kate who said you had the fastest fingers in the Navy? Now I know why."

We both share a laugh and awkward moment number 620 falls by the wayside. Harm reaches for the robe that is sitting on the edge of the bed and covers me.

"Thanks." I say in appreciation as I close the robe around me. I'd reach up and kiss him again, but if I do I'll lose all control.

Harm stands up and walks to the door. "Night, Mac."

"Night, Harm."

He walks out and turns back to give me a smile, and I return it. I want so much more. I close the door. Maybe one day.


	3. Chapter 3

Part III

Saturday, 0700

November 6, 2004

Key West, FL

Harm and I meet up and grab a quick bite to eat before heading over to Boca Chica Field. We are seated in a booth at a local diner, and the special today is apple fritters. "I'll have the special with a side of crispy bacon and orange juice." I tell the waitress.

"I'll have an egg white omelet with onions and peppers with toast, no butter, and coffee, please," follows Harm, and the waitress takes our menus back behind the counter.

"You know, the yolk is the best part of the egg, Harm. Now what do you suppose those poor yolks are going to do all by themselves?" I tease, and he chuckles, raising an eyebrow and shaking his head.

We make eye contact and smile.

I point at him and say, "The smell of chestnuts roasting on the streets of New York at Christmastime." It's a sort of game we play, a memory game.

"The smell of burning leaves," he counters.

"Mmm, you're right." I smile at the memory. "Did you ever do that when you were a kid? We used to. I remember raking leaves all day on Saturdays wishing I could be doing anything else like playing with my dolls, but then at the end of the day we would make a big pile and got to jump in them and roll around covering ourselves and getting all dirty with leaves stuck in our hair. It was the only time I was allowed to get my hair dirty. Then my Dad used to put the leaves in one of those special cans they used to have for burning leaves, remember the ones with the holes? Then he used to burn them. I loved that smell."

Harm joins me in a smile. He picks up his napkin and starts to unfold it slowly. "I remember the apple pies. You're going to laugh, but back on the farm they really used to bake apple pies and put them on the windowsill to cool. You could smell it everywhere you went. I loved my Grandmother's apple pies; it's one of my fondest memories."

"Sounds like a place I would have liked."

"You would have," he reflected. "The farm was a special place to me growing up since we spent so much time there after Dad went missing; there were so many places to hide for hours without anyone finding you. I especially liked the hiking and fishing. And occasionally Frank would take us camping. It was a whole other world."

"Yeah." We sit in silence and fondly recall the faint memories as if they were yesterday. It's funny how much Harm and I really have in common, finding peace in the ability to hide, even back then. And it's nice to see Harm open up a little - there's so much we haven't shared with each other. But I suspect that will come a little at a time; I think we're making progress.

We sit in comfortable silence, lost in thought, until our food arrives. At that, we both perk up and attack our meal with vigor.

Harm pipes up finally, "Hey, eat up, we don't want to be late."

"Me? I'm not the one who has to chew each bite one hundred times, Harm. At that rate I figure we'll get there by the time we reach fifty years old." I tease.

"Are you kidding? I'm already done." He sits back with a smug grin and I laugh.

"Ah, it's amazing what an air show will do for your incentive," I say as I finish my last bite. I grab the check and we head for the door.

Even though the aerial events start at noon, the air show starts at 9 am and people are arriving in droves to claim their spots for the event and the turnout is expected to be very high today.

The event itself is free to the public and Harm's passes allow us to go behind the scenes to meet the pilots and get a closer look at the F/A-18 hornets. Harm proceeds to give me a tour of the facilities as if he's been stationed here for years. He meets some people and introduces me – I'm surprised at how many people he knows. We all talk amicably before moving on to the various attractions, there's so much here to see, it's overwhelming.

Harm takes delight in pointing out things that honestly I would have no hopes of relating to, nonetheless including me in every conversation as if he felt he could transfer his vast knowledge to me; explaining things as if I'd understand as opposed to talking down to me. I can tell it means a lot for him to share this part of himself; he's like a kid, all bubbly and hyper-excited. A very active inner child, I remember Bud commenting once; how true that is, and what a pleasure it is to see this side of him. It's not often I get to see his true self, the happy, carefree soul. And that he wants to share it with me - it warms my heart so much I can't wipe the smile from my face.

Fortunately Harm is able to gain access to a choice viewing area away from the swelling crowds, and we settle in and wait for the show to start. I look over to Harm, and he grins, then looks up to the sky. "It's a perfect day for flying."

"It's too bad you weren't able to get a ride today."

Harm's grin widens into a full-blown smile, "I got one for tomorrow." At my surprised look he adds, "It's the Rabb charm."

"Oh, is that what that is? I must be immune," I reply with a mischievous smile.

He leans in close and whispers in my ear, "You just think you are." The start of the show interrupts our conversation and we leave the words lingering in the air.

After the invocation and Tomcat launch, the show starts with a special operations forces parachute jump, freefall. Next up: the national anthem and an F-14 sneak pass. The aerial demos are awesome. The US Air Force Heritage Flight Team performs and also the American Delta Firebirds Team. Harm explains to me that this is the first year they're using three planes in their performance, using a Russian Sukhoi's low speed maneuverability to complement the two Extra 300's high-speed performance and agility. There are so many planes, so many demos, but all extraordinary performances. And of course, the best is saved for last: the Blue Angels. During the performance Harm recites the unit's history. It's amazing he can talk and watch something so spectacular at the same time. I'm in awe of the precision maneuvers and aerial acrobatics.

"Look at that Mac. Now, _that's_ precision." Harm points out the four jets flying in formation.

He leans in close without taking his eye off the planes. "That's a four plane diamond. You'll never guess how closely they're flying together." The look on his face is priceless.

"I don't know, but I'm glad I'm not up there right now, that's for sure."

Harm chuckles. "Eighteen inches, Mac. That's all that's separating the wingtip of one and the cockpit of another. _That's_ impressive."

"Yeah, but one mistake and..."

"That's why they're Blue Angels, Mac. They don't make mistakes."

Sadly and before we know it, the day is over; and the crowd dissipates steadily. The performances today were unbelievable and intense - even I was riveted to my seat throughout. Although we sat for most of the day, we're both tired, probably in part because we didn't eat lunch. Neither of us wanted to miss anything, so we kept our seats throughout the show. We thank everyone, Harm confirms his flight time tomorrow, and we return to Avalon, the bed and breakfast.

We stop at our rooms to freshen up and decide on a late lunch/early dinner, taking a walk down Duval Street to see what our choices are. We take our time, casually browsing at the art galleries and watching the diverse crowd of people milling about. It takes a few minutes before I realize I'm grinning, and I have no idea why, except that it's a beautiful day, I can smell the sea, and I'm here with Harm.

I giggle lightly, prompting Harm to ask me, "What?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just having fun."

"Me too," he replies, and takes the opportunity to slip his hand into mine. Smooth. I look up to him and smile, and squeeze his hand, and we keep walking. We find our way to Margaret Street, where we agree on a restaurant called Michael's since the menu offers something we can both enjoy. We settle in at the garden bar and I order an iced tea while Harm has a beer.

We peruse the menu. "Wow, fondue. Mmm, I can't remember the last time I had fondue. But I can't pass up a good steak. I'll have the filet Béarnaise."

Harm doesn't take long to decide. "I'm going to have the grouper Oscar, stuffed with crab."

"Oh, look, chocolate volcano, hmmm, hot Ghirardelli chocolate cake with a molten center that erupts when the cake is broken open. Sounds like my kind of dessert!"

"Looks like we came to the right place," he says with a smile.

We order dinner and while we're waiting for the food to cook, we make small talk.

"You've never cooked a turkey before?" he asks in disbelief.

"A real turkey? Once, a long time ago." I stifle a laugh.

"What?"

"You should have been there. I had this frozen bird I knew nothing about how to cook, despite all the helpful hints for weeks prior to the occasion, but I figured, how hard can it be? You stick the thing in the oven and it gets cooked."

"I gather that didn't go so well."

"Suffice it to say it would have helped if I had at least read the directions. The oven wasn't hot enough for one thing, and I left all the gizzards and gravy packet inside. I didn't even know they were in there!" I laugh at the memory. "It's a good thing I didn't try to stuff it, I think I would have died from some dreaded disease."

"I'm glad I wasn't there that day."

"Yeah, me too. Needless to say, we ate at the local diner."

"So you wouldn't want to try it again?"

"You know how it is cooking for one, Harm. Why would I want to go through that kind of trouble for just myself?"

"Oh, so it's just that you don't have the proper incentive." It was more like a statement.

"Of course. I'm an excellent cook."

He looks at me, disbelieving.

"What, you don't think so?" I ask. "When have I ever cooked a bad meal for you?"

"Never, it's just that, well, it's been a long time since I've had a home-cooked turkey dinner with all the trimmings." Harm is really laying it on thick.

"Are you trying to wrangle an invitation, Harm?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "No, I'm just saying..."

I roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt to lie. "Just admit it."

"Well, maybe," he replies sheepishly and smiles.

"Okay, you poor deprived baby. I'll cook you a turkey dinner. Just don't expect perfection. Oh, and you have to bring dessert."

"I can do that."

"Nothing store bought, either. If I have to cook, so do you."

"Deal."

"You do realize this is going to be a real turkey, not tofu?"

"I'm not a complete vegetarian, you know. If I was, I never would have survived on a ship all these years."

"Okay then, it's a date."

Harm busies himself by peeling the label from his beer and looks back up at me.

"What?" I smile.

"Well, Thanksgiving. It's three weeks from now."

"And...?"

"Do you think we should wait that long for our first date?"

I smile and touch his hand. "Is that what's bothering you? You're silly. Just ask, Harm. It's that simple."

"So how is your steak?" he asks with a smile. Deflection.

"Excellent," I reply as I take my last bite. I figure when the time is right, he'll ask.

After the meal we push ourselves away from the table, sated and happy. It's still relatively early; the sun is just starting to dip in the sky. It's an adjustment to see the sun set so early in the day after the recent time change.

We walk out of the restaurant and find ourselves close to the beach. We take off our shoes and begin the short walk toward the shoreline. Harm and I had been too involved in our conversation and removing our shoes to notice the beautiful sight before us.

I look up and suddenly it's all I can see. The sun. I've never seen anything so large, and it's threatening to take up the whole horizon.

"Harm...." is all I can say as I walk quickly toward the sight before me, afraid that if I don't move fast enough it will disappear as in a daydream. I start walking ahead; for some reason I feel as though I can just reach out and touch it.

Harm follows after me, and I think he's just as surprised as I am, and he's also at a loss for words.

Finally we make it to the water's edge, and I stop when I feel the waves lap gently against my bare feet. The sun is setting slowly into the horizon, and I watch with awe as it sinks slowly into the Gulf of Mexico.

I find the words to speak. "Look at that. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your life?"

Harm comes to stand behind me and leans down to whisper to me, his breath tickling my ear. "Beautiful. Makes you want to reach out and touch it," he says. And tentatively he reaches up and touches my shoulders with the tips of his fingers, afraid that too much contact will break the spell. "And never let it go," he finishes as he caresses my shoulders with his warm, powerful hands.

We stand there for an eternity, content to watch the sun sink slowly into the horizon, neither of us prepared for what will happen when it ends. I don't know how long we stood there exactly, but neither of us moves. When the last tip of the sun disappears into the ocean, a voice comes up behind us, causing us both to gasp.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry to bother you, but I was walking along the beach taking pictures, and, well, I know you're going to think I'm some kind of wacko or something, but you looked so much in love, I kind of took your picture. I'm a sucker for sunsets. I hope you don't mind. Well. Here. I thought you might like to keep it," he said and thrust a Polaroid into my hand. "Have a good night." And he walked away.

"Who was that guy?" I ask when my heart starts beating again.

"I don't know. Scared me half to death though," Harm says, still unwilling to let go of me.

I hold the picture in my right hand, raising it up and over my shoulder, angling it so that I can get a better look at it but it's too dark. My hand is trembling, but I'm not sure if it's because of the sudden appearance of this man or the hands that are caressing my shoulders.

"I can't see a thing, can you?"

Harm's head dips low and he's not looking at the picture in my hand, but at me. He reaches out and runs his hand the length of my arm, takes the photo gently from my tenuous grasp and puts it in his pocket without looking.

"I can see you," he says, and brushes his long fingers over my arm and to my hand, coaxing it to rest behind his neck, then resumes his caresses. He brushes my hair aside and lets his lips drift softly over my shoulder, up my neck and over my ear.

"I knew you'd smell this good," he breathes into my ear.

"I knew you'd feel this good," I reply as I lean back, and my lips barely touch his.

"Can we consider this our first date?" he asks me in a whisper.

"Yes," I reply breathlessly.

"Good." He smiles and closes the gap between us - capturing me in a kiss so full of warmth and tenderness. And then he captures my heart. Maybe I'm not immune to the Rabb charm after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

Saturday Evening

November 6, 2004

Key West, FL

Harm and I gather up our shoes and he slips his hand into mine, and as we walk down the beach along the edge of the surf, we drift lazily in and out of the water. We don't talk, sometimes there's no need for words. I steal a glance at Harm and realize how comfortable we've become with each other, and I think back to the not-so-distant past when that wasn't the case. I like this.

"Me too," Harm replies, and squeezes my hand. I look up, surprised, and realize I must have said it out loud.

The night turns cooler and we turn back to make our way toward Avalon. The breeze picks up, coming in short gusts, and it's just enough to give me a slight chill. Harm notices the goose bumps on my arms and he stops me. He turns to face me with his back to the wind and opens up his jacket, motioning for me to step closer so he can close it around me. And just like that I'm back in his arms - safe and warm and content. I move closer and rest my cheek against his chest. I swear I can feel his heartbeat, and it comforts me.

Harm rubs his hands slowly and rhythmically up and down my back. "Is that better?" he asks.

I snuggle into him, snaking my arms around is waist, and nod into his chest. "Feels good."

He kisses the top of my head, then fingers the hair from my forehead and touches his lips there, and then he tips my chin up. His mouth opens just the slightest bit as he leans into me. I can see the tip of his tongue peek from between his lips, causing me to part my own in response, and our lips meet. I realize now, how quickly I could get lost in these sensual kisses. His tongue is moist and velvety and as his duels with mine, I savor the feel and taste of him. I never want it to end.

I don't know how long we stand there, surrounded by people milling about, but all I can see is the man standing in front of me, only us and this new thing we are exploring.

When we finally pull apart, our lips are slightly red and swollen. Harm rests his forehead against mine and we slowly regain our composure. "God, Mac. You taste so good."

Before I can reign in the thought, the words come streaming out of my mouth. "Too good. This could get out of hand." Did I say that out loud?

Harm pulls back and hesitates, holding both of my hands in his before he lets go. "You're right, I'm sorry," he says with a smile, but I can feel him distance himself with lightning speed.

No, wait. I step closer; take his hand. "Don't be sorry, Harm. I'm not."

Harm searches my eyes and I hope he can see the sincerity in them. He breathes a small sigh. "Okay."

Tentatively, I resume my earlier position in his arms. "So, what do we do now?"

"We take it slow," he suggests.

I run my hands slowly up his chest. "And by slow you mean…"

Harm checks his watch. "Fifteen, twenty minutes?" he jokes.

We share a much-needed laugh and I swat him playfully on the arm. "You're funny."

Harm gathers me up in a hug. "Do you want to head back?"

"If you'll keep me warm, I'd like to stay out here for a while longer." Harm nods and we walk for a short distance before selecting a spot that is a little secluded from the crowds.

Harm helps me to sit and I pull my knees up slightly and rest my hands there while he sits behind me and encircles me with his long legs. "Is this okay?"

I look over my shoulder and I can see the hesitance in his eyes. In response I reach down into the sand and scoot back until I can feel my body pressed to his. "This is better."

We sit quietly for a few minutes, watching the stars twinkle in the sky and adjusting to this change in our relationship. We just took it a step further. Only a baby step, but still…I don't know if either of us is really ready for this, even if it's what we've both wanted for years.

"What is it?" Harm whispers to me.

"What do you mean?" I ask innocently, but I can't fool him.

"I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head, Mac."

I take his hand between mine, studying it. "I didn't realize I was thinking so loudly," I respond with a hint of laughter.

Harm brushes the hair from the back of my neck with his free hand and kisses me softly behind my ear. "Want to talk about it?"

His kiss makes me shiver and I lean into him. "Have you ever wanted something so much…"

"It scared you? Yes, I have."

"And you're not scared, now?"

"Not any more."

"How?"

"I learned it…the hard way, like every other thing I've done in my life. Life is too short, Mac. It's better to face your fears than to live in them."

"You're a wise man, you know."

"I don't know about that. Experienced, maybe."

I see an object streak across the sky and sit up, surprised. "Look! Did you see that?"

Harm looks up to see the shooting star just before it disappears. "Your first one?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and concentrate. "Yeah."

"What are you doing?" I can hear the amusement in his voice.

"Shh. Making a wish." When I'm finished I open my eyes and he's watching me.

"Well?" He looks at me expectantly.

"What? I'm not telling you."

Harm brings his hand to his heart. "You wound me."

I roll my eyes and lean back against him. "Oh, stop. If I tell you it won't come true."

"Maybe it will." He can see I'm not convinced. "You're too superstitious."

I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe I am. Have you ever made a wish, Harm?"

He quirks his head and looks away. "I might have."

"Did it come true?"

He reaches down and traces his fingers through the sand, then looks at me. "No, not yet," he replies.

"What did you wish for?" I ask, curious to know.

"Okay, Mac. I get your point," he says with a smirk. He places a quick peck on my forehead. "Ready to head back?"

"Yeah. You should get some sleep; you've got a date with a plane tomorrow."

"And what are you going to do?" he asks.

"I'm going to get some work done. I've got some notes to go over and I want to be prepared for our interviews on Monday."

Looking guilty for wanting to have fun while I'm working, he offers, "Why don't you wait for me, we'll do it together."

"We've hardly done enough work for two people, Harm. Don't let the sound of my itinerary fool you…I'll be spending most of my time soaking up the sun scattered by little bits of work. Believe me, I won't be working that hard."

"I don't think there's a very strong case here, Mac. Unless we get some pretty compelling information from Bittner and Searles, I think we should recommend no action be taken."

"I agree. We'll see where it leads us. In the mean time, go. Have fun."

Harm helps me up and we brush the sand off each other as best as we can, but it's a losing battle. We walk quietly, hand in hand, back to the room, reaching second floor before we know it.

I break the silence. "I had a lot of fun today."

"I did too."

"We'll have to do it again sometime." I take the key card out, shove it in the door and open it, then turn back to say good night. "Hey, why don't we…"

Harm's back is to me. He's standing underneath the overhead light. Curious, I come to stand next to him and peer around to see, putting my hand on his arm. He's holding the picture in his hand, the one that was taken of us on the beach, and he leans to show it to me.

"See, I told you it was a good idea to hold onto this," he comments.

I rest my head on his arm. "Hmm, looks like love to me."

"Me too," he replies, and presses the picture into my hand and a kiss onto my lips before I walk back to the door.

"Good night. I'll see you tomorrow, Harm."

"Aren't you going to wish me…"

"Luck," I blurt out before he can say it.

"You have to stop finishing my sentences," he says with a smile. We kiss one more time before he backs away but before I can close the door, he stops me.

"Hey. I hope your wish comes true."

"So do I."

I peel myself out of my clothes and take a quick shower before slipping under the sheets. Propping the picture against the nightstand lamp, I gaze again at the picture of Harm and I on the beach silhouetted by the setting sun, one more time. And as I turn off the light for the night, it's still there with me, burned into my memory. I'll never forget our first date as I drift off to sleep and dream of Harm's lips on mine.

Sunday

November 7, 2004

Key West, FL

I wake up and jump out of bed with a spring in my step. I dress quickly and head over to Duval Street to have a breakfast of French toast with syrup and bacon, and bring back a couple of coffees to go.

I sit at the table and dig into my briefcase for the files, open my second cup of coffee, and get right to work on those files. The sun is bright, another cloudless day and I don't want to miss it. I'd rather not be working, but I'm not one to leave things hanging. A couple of hours later, after taking copious notes and formulating questions for our witnesses tomorrow, I feel satisfied that I've made a dent in this case.

I hear a knock at the door and get up to answer it. Housekeeping his here to clean my room, and I ask the woman to give me a minute. I close the door and gather my papers together and shove them back into my briefcase. I grab my bathing suit and change into it, and fill a bag with a towel and some sunscreen.

I'm ready in record time; sometimes it pays to be a Marine. I open the door and let the woman in and she wishes me a good day. It's a short walk to the beach and I'm eager to get some sun.

Late Afternoon

Key West, FL

"I tried your room but you weren't there."

Moving from my stomach to lean on my side, I rest my head on my hand and look up to see Harm standing there, watching me. I point to him. "You had fun today."

"How can you tell?" he asks.

"You're kidding, right? Harm, you should see the look on your face right now."

Harm crosses his arms and his eyebrow arches up. "Really, what does it look like?"

Sexy, Harm. Sexy has hell. I blush at the thought. "Never mind." I roll onto my back and close my eyes.

Intrigued, he sits down next to me on the sand. "No, tell me."

I can't help but smile, but I don't answer him. Suddenly I feel his fingers, caressing my stomach so lightly it tickles, sending a shiver through me. I have to stifle a giggle. Finally I can't take it any more.

"Okay! Okay. You look…" I open my eyes and look into his. "Satisfied," I say with a grin.

"Satisfied, huh?" he asks, amused.

"Yeah, you always get that look when you fly. That adrenalin rush…must be better than sex." I joke.

"I wouldn't know, Mac. I haven't had any…." He stops short, realizing what he was about to say, to me, out loud. I can see the look of embarrassment sweep over his face.

"Of course you've had sex, Harm," I say facetiously, trying to erase this awkward moment.

Sighing heavily, Harm lies down next to me on his back with a soft thud. "Nice save, MacKenzie."

"Thanks. Want to go for a swim?"

"Sure." He helps me up and removes his shirt, tossing it on my towel. I can't remember the last time I saw Harm without a shirt and I can't help but stare; it's my turn to be speechless. I try to be nonchalant about it, but my mouth betrays me and drops open slightly at the thought of feeling his skin pressed to mine.

"Wow," I say under my breath.

"I could say the same thing," Harm replies happily.

"Um, what I meant was…." I try to explain, but I stop because he's having too much fun watching me squirm. Hell, he knows what I meant.

"Last one in…" he says before he takes off into a full run and doesn't stop until he's in deep, then he dives into a wave. I follow, but there's no way I could have kept up with him, I never could run as well in the sand. He turns and waits for me to catch up, reaching out for my hand, and I don't stop until I'm swept up in his arms, right where I belong.

We swim for a while, playing in the waves and talking. Suddenly a look comes over Harm's face and he looks up to the sky before asking, "What time do you think it is?"

"Around three, I guess. Why?"

"Did you have lunch?"

"No, I had a big breakfast."

Harm grabs my hand and pulls me in the direction of the beach. "Good."

Slightly amused at this, I ask, "Where are we going, Harm?"

"Can't tell you, it's a surprise. If we hurry we won't miss it," he tosses over his shoulder cryptically.

We towel off and gather our things, and make our way back to the hotel. When we reach the second floor, I turn to look at him questioningly. "Okay, now what?"

He turns me around and points me to my room. "You're going to take a shower and change. Dress casually. Knock on my door when you're finished. Take your time, Mac. But not too long." He turns and walks away, whistling.

I let myself into my room, trying to figure out what's this is all about, but I shrug it off and follow Harm's directions. I take a shower and put on a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting top when I realize I'm a little sunburned. After I put on my sandals I grab a bottle of aloe thinking maybe Harm can put some on my shoulders later. I take one last glance in the mirror before I close the door behind me and walk to Harm's room.

I knock lightly on his door and I hear his footsteps get closer before they stop and the door opens. "Come on in, Mac," he says as he steps back to let me pass. He showered also; his hair is still wet and the fresh scent of his soap lingers in the air…along with something else.

"I hope you don't mind an early dinner," he says, and points to the table near the window. I walk toward the table, dressed with a tablecloth, and on it - food…barbecued ribs and corn and coleslaw, beans and biscuits with butter.

"No, I don't mind." I turn back with a surprised smile. "How did you do this?"

"They deliver," he responds simply. "Shall we?" he asked as he pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit.

I hand him the bottle of gel and he puts it aside for now. I sit and pull a napkin into my lap and survey the feast in front of me. "Thank you, Harm. I don't know what to say."

"Don't talk, eat," he says, and fills his plate with food with some crab cakes. I follow suit, taking a little bit of everything and biting into the first of many succulent ribs, savoring the smoky barbecue flavor.

When we finish some time later, I sit back with a grin a mile wide. "That was delicious."

Harm gets up from his chair and walks over to me, and leans over. "Don't move," he says in a serious tone, and tips my chin up with his hand. He swallows softly, and licks a spot near the corner of my mouth with the tip of his tongue. Satisfied, he pulls back and smiles, placing a kiss on my lips. "Barbecue sauce," he explains.

My heart skips a beat. Or two. Before I can respond, a knock at the door startles me and Harm goes to answer it. They've come to clean up the mess we've made, so Harm and I step outside and let them get to work.

I walk to the railing and look out over the ocean; the view is spectacular. Harm steps up behind me and touches my shoulders; I can really feel the sunburn now, and let out a small hiss of pain.

"Sorry. Let me see," he says, pulling back my blouse slightly. "I'll put some aloe on it when they're done."

"Okay."

When the room is clean we go back inside and Harm gets the aloe and motions for me to turn around. I'm eager for some relief from the burn. Harm pulls the back of my blouse from my neck but it won't move far enough for him to completely reach my shoulders. "It's too tight, Mac. If you want me to get at it, you're going to have to take it off."

I take a hesitant step forward and my hand sweeps to my chest when I realize I don't have my bra on. "Um, that's okay, Harm. I'll get it later."

Harm puts the cap on the bottle of gel, walks away and sits down on the bed. "Do you trust me, Mac?" he asks softly.

"Of course I do."

"Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you?" he asks before he looks away. "I'm sorry, Mac. I shouldn't have asked you that."

Harm's questioning uncertainty makes my heart break. I do trust him. He's demonstrated countless times that he wouldn't do anything to hurt me, would do anything to protect me. That's one of the reasons I love him so much.

Silently I unbutton my blouse and pull it off my shoulders, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. "Harm? Would you get my back?"

I can't see his response, but I can hear the springs in the bed moan as he stands. He walks over to me, bends to retrieve my blouse, and hands it over my shoulder. "You dropped this," he says softly.

I take it and hold it against my chest. "Thanks."

Opening the bottle, Harm sets to work. "You've got handprints on your back. Next time let someone put the lotion on you instead of trying to do it yourself, okay?" he advises as he slowly spreads the cooling aloe onto my shoulders. "Looks like you won't be going out in the sun again for a while. There. All done."

"Thanks. Can you help me…" I ask awkwardly, holding my blouse over my shoulder. Not knowing what else to do with his dirty hands, Harm wipes his fingertips quickly on his shorts before taking it from me. He holds the edges while I put my arms through the sleeves, and backs away. He retreats to the bathroom to wash his hands when he sees that I can take it from here and when he returns I'm buttoned up. "Harm, I…"

"Could use some dessert, how about you?"

"Dessert?"

"Close your eyes." I squeeze my eyes shut but decide to take a peek when I hear him moving around. I shut them quickly when I realize I've been caught.

"They're closed," I say with a giggle as I peak again.

Harm is standing with his arms crossed in feigned annoyance. "Outside," he says, and points to the door.

"But…"

"I'll be right out. March." I open the door and stand on the porch, deciding to sit in one of the chairs while I wait.

Harm follows a few minutes later and I hear him pull a chair close to mine. "Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Even better. Open your mouth," he instructs me. I'm intrigued now. I have no idea what he's got there but I do as he asks.

Harm spoons some into my mouth and I let it melt on my tongue. "Chunky Monkey?" I guess.

"Ah, you're familiar with this flavor."

"Intimately."

"It's all they had. You should have seen the funny looks I got when I asked them if they had any Phish Food. This stuff isn't easy to find, you know."

Harm offers me another spoonful and I take it into my mouth. "Are you going to try some? It's really good." I lean in and capture his lips, opening my mouth to invite him in for a taste.

He dips his tongue inside. "Bananas. Chocolate. And something else."

"Walnuts," I offer. "It's good, isn't it?"

He kisses me again before answering. "Not bad, but you taste much better."

I take the spoon from his hand and dip it into the pint of ice cream, scooping a big enough mound for us to share. I offer him some and I take the rest.

"You're spoiling me, you know," I try to say matter-of-factly, but the look on my face betrays me.

Harm sees my troubled look and cups my chin in his hand. "And you don't deserve to be spoiled?" he asks.

"No, I do," I answer with a small twinkle in my eye, and we share a laugh. "It's just that…I could get used to this. You don't want to create a monster."

Harm's intense gaze grabs my attention. "You know what I could get used to? Seeing you smile, watching your face light up when you're surprised. I wish I could surprise you every day."

My heart skips a beat and I take his hand in mine. "You don't have to surprise me every day to make me smile, Harm. I don't show it enough, maybe I don't show it at all…but I want you to know you make me smile, in here…," I say as I press his hand to my heart, "Just by being part of my life."

Harm leans in and kisses me so tenderly, then deepens the kiss and quickly threatens to escalate into something more. He pulls himself away reluctantly and swallows audibly to catch his breath, and leans back into his chair, propping his legs up on the railing. Taking his lead, I pull my chair closer to his and sit back also, and when I put my feet up they brush against Harm's.

"Remind me whose idea it was to go slowly?" he asks.

"Yours. Why, want to change your mind?" I ask, and offer him a spoonful of ice cream.

"No, I can wait," he replies honestly.

We sit on the porch for hours, playing footsy and talking and finishing the rest of the Chunky Monkey…can't let good ice cream go to waste. Later, Harm walks me to my door and we kiss goodnight. I want to ask him inside, but I don't. We said we'd take it slow, and several times tonight I question the wisdom of that decision, but deep down I know it's the right one. We're both a little hesitant, there's so much at stake. We'll know when it's the right time. Until then Harm holds me in a close embrace and rubs my back, and with one last kiss I watch him walk away before I quietly close the door.

Early the next day finds us both in uniform and back at the base. Harm is interviewing Bittner in another room and I've got Searles. Later in the morning, we get together to compare notes.

Harm pours himself a cup of coffee and leans against the table, sighing with frustration. "I don't know, Mac. I get the feeling someone's lying here."

"It's Searles. I don't think he was there at all, Harm. I can't believe he didn't think I'd notice his story matches Casey's practically word for word."

"They went through an awful lot of trouble to see their friend brought up on charges." Harm remarks.

"Yeah, with friends like that…so you agree there's nothing here?"

Harm stands and walks toward our makeshift office. "Looks that way. We should never have had to come here in the first place," he says with annoyance. I'll write this up and speak to the Captain. Do you want to see how soon we can get out of here?"

"Hey," I say and Harm turns back. "It wasn't a total loss." He smiles at me, and walks through the door.

Harm and I are already packed and checked out of the hotel, and on the ride to the airport I reflect back on our stay here. We reach the airport just in time to get through security and to the plane before the doors close. Getting a last minute flight wasn't easy and Harm and I don't get to sit together on the plane, but that's okay. I watch out the window as we slowly back away from the terminal and head for home.

Three weeks later….

November 25, 2004

Thanksgiving Day, 8:54 am

Mac's Apartment

Harm raps quietly on my door, maybe he thinks I'm not awake yet; nothing can be further from the truth. I have to admit I'm a little nervous, cooking only the second turkey of my life, but this one's important because it's for Harm. It's a fresh one, too. No Butterball for me, no sir, why do it the easy way? I'm not worried though. I've spent the last two weeks watching every Thanksgiving show on the food channel just in case, and I'm as prepared as I'll ever be.

I open the door to find Harm standing there with his arms full, and I invite him in, taking the bag that's hanging precariously beneath the pie in his hand. Preceding him into the kitchen, I call over my shoulder, "Home made, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. One pumpkin, one apple, per your request," he says with a bow.

I take them from his outstretched hands and set them on the counter, bending to admire their aroma. "Mmm, I bet they taste as good as they look."

"I bet you do too," Harm says from behind me. I straighten and he wraps his arms around my waist and leans to kiss my neck.

I tilt my head so that I can capture his lips for a kiss. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mac." He peers over my shoulder and rests his eyes on the oven, arching an eyebrow. "Is it in there?"

"It is," I say proudly. "I didn't stuff him though, I think I'll do the stuffing separately."

Remembering my account of how badly my first turkey fared, he remarks, "Probably best for all of us," to which he earns a playful swat on the arm.

I point him toward the living room. "Go sit, the parade is getting ready to start."

"You don't need help?" he asks.

"Nope, it's all taken care of. As a matter of fact, as soon as I put this stuff away I'll join you."

Satisfied with that, Harm removes his jacket and makes his way to the couch. I put the whipped cream and cider he brought into the fridge, and make a mental check of the things I need to do next. Everything's pretty much set and I have some time before I have to baste the turkey again. The vegetables, stuffing and potatoes are ready to be cooked. I guess there's not much left to do but relax for a little while.

I bring Harm a cup of coffee and he takes it from me, patting the space next to him. As I sit, he holds his arm out and pulls me close as I snuggle against him with my legs tucked under me.

With his head tilted back comfortably, Harm takes small sips of his coffee while he absently plays with my hair. As I watch the streams of people walking briskly down the streets of New York, and see the crowds clapping with excitement, I hope one day maybe we can go there and experience it together.

"When I was a kid I used to watch the parade. I wanted to be one of the clowns that got to keep the balloons from flying away," I tell him.

"Any balloon in particular?"

"Yeah, Mighty Mouse," I say and we share a laugh.

"I always liked the end of the parade the best. When Santa Clause makes his appearance and signals the start of the Christmas season and the coming of the New Year," he says.

"Why?"

Harm shrugs. "The idea of new beginnings, I guess. It reminds me I've got a lot to look forward to, and a lot to be thankful for."

"Wait, you haven't tasted my turkey yet," I joke.

"I'm sure I'll live," he replies.

Hours later, and with both of us working as a team to finish with the preparations, everything is ready and we sit down to our first holiday meal together. Harm pours us each some cider and we raise our glasses. Harm states simply, "To new beginnings."

I touch my glass to his. "And good things to come."

Later we sit at the table staring at the decimated remains of old Tom, and I feel like I'm going to bust. The meal came out surprisingly well, although my attempt at making gravy was a complete disaster; luckily I had a spare jar on hand. Obviously I need more practice with that. Harm didn't seem to mind though, he didn't complain once and ate everything on his plate.

After clearing the dishes we decide on a long walk in the park, and it looks like we aren't the only ones with the same idea judging from the amount of people out and about. There's nothing like a full stomach, a brisk fall day, and holding hands with the man you love.

When we get back to my place we wait a respectable amount of time before cutting into the pies. Harm makes me wait on the couch and comes back with two plates, mine contains a small slice of each; one piece is garnished with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon, the other with a scoop of ice cream.

"I wasn't sure what you'd want, so…" he says as he hands me a plate.

I take it eagerly and sit back on the couch, waiting for Harm to join me. He sits and looks up to see me watching him. "Fork?"

"Oh, yeah." He pulls my fork from his back pocket, along with a napkin, and hands them to me.

Harm watches me take a bite of the pumpkin, then take a bite of the apple. He waits patiently for me to say something but I take my time sampling each piece in turn slowly, not making a sound, until the plate is empty.

I set the plate down on the coffee table and wipe my mouth with my napkin. "You've been holding out on me. That was delicious."

"I'm glad you liked it. I especially enjoyed watching you eat it," he admits as he puts the finishing touches on his own pie, and suddenly an idea forms in my head.

"I'll be right back." I pick up our plates and take them to the kitchen, returning with my hands suspiciously behind my back and a mischievous smile on my face.

"What have you got there?" Harm asks warily.

"Close your eyes, open your mouth." He raises an eyebrow, but follows my directions. I sit close to him and squirt a small amount of whipped cream onto his tongue, then dip mine in after it, kissing him long and slow.

Harm pulls away breathlessly. "Mac, I have to warn you, do that again and I may not be responsible for what happens."

"You're right. I don't know what I was thinking." I sit up and take his hand, coax him from the couch and lead him toward the bedroom for the first time. "We don't need the whipped cream."

Some time later, lying in bed and wrapped up in the man I love, I sigh with contentment. "Phish Food," I say out loud.

"What?" he asks sleepily.

"If it wasn't for Phish Food, where do you think we'd be right now, Harm?"

"I don't know," he says honestly.

"I think we owe a debt of gratitude to Ben and Jerry. Maybe we should write them a letter, tell them our story. They'll probably want to name a flavor after us."

"Maybe," he agrees. "To Ben and Jerry," he salutes.

"And new beginnings," I add.

"And good things to come." Harm tips my chin up, caresses my check with his fingers, and gazes lovingly into my eyes. "I love you, Mac."

I reach out and hold his hand against me, and brush a kiss to his lips. "I love you too, Harm. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving."


End file.
